Tunesday : (You're A) Strange Animal

(You're A) Strange Animal

(Written and performed by Lawrence Gowan)

Well they say I should approach you
With caution
But not to let you be aware of my fear
Never know what you'll find
Don't understand your kind 'round here
Watching your moves
They look so radical
Hearing your words
They sound fanatical
Something inside reveals you're magical
How can I get enough

You're a strange animal
That's what I know
You're a strange animal
I've got to follow

They've been trying to stick a line
In your system
Analysing the defenses you hold
Trying to open wide
Hoping to step inside your soul
But everything here is unfamiliar
Nothing they've seen remotely similar
How can it be you're so peculiar
How can I get enough

You're a strange animal
That's what I know
You're a strange animal
I've got to follow

O Ominous Spiritus!

As seen in the picture above, Gowan was the headline act at our recent Fall Fair, and like always, I feel sorry for any performer who once sold out stadiums and is now on the small town circuit. Gowan himself has been the lead singer for Styx since 1999 (we saw them performing together as part of the Big Music Fest back in 2014, along with Bryan Adams and Aerosmith, etc.) and the drummer from Styx was part of this band, so I figure they still have a bit more than this on the go. I can say for certain that no matter the venue, Gowan gives his all to every performance - high kicking in his kilt and jamming out on a silver keyboard that he can spin as part of his dance routine - and he still has that remarkable voice. The crowd that filled the infield sang and danced and recorded videos - we sat higher up on the grandstand - and since it was Kennedy who most wanted to see Gowan live (even though she only knows two of his songs, this being one of them), she brought along her boyfriend and her best friend (who were both less enchanted by the Gowan magic than Kennedy was). I don't have much more than that to say about this song this week, but I do want to record a strange story from work here.

Watching your moves
They look so radical
Hearing your words
They sound fanatical
Something inside reveals you're magical
How can I get enough

So, there was an older woman in the bookstore and she asked me to show her where the adult colouring books are kept; in particular, she was hoping we'd have some bird or nature themed books. I brought her to our small section - apologising for the low stock and explaining that we hoped to get more variety in soon - but she was gracious and said she'd be happy just to look through what we did have. And then she began telling me her story:

I've been in hospice for the past five weeks, they expected me to die at every moment. But I didn't want to just lie around and wait for that to happen, so I'd get up and walk around the place every day, go to the kitchen to get my own meals, and to keep my mind going, I filled in one of these colouring books, doing a little every day. Eventually, when it looked like I wasn't dying fast enough, they told me they would need to find a new place for me out in the community, warning that it can take up to a month to find a placement. And I told them, "That's not the way it works. If God's plan is for me to move again, a place will present itself." They later said that they had never seen this happen, but within twenty-four hours, a place opened up for me and I was moved out. And since I had given everything away before going into hospice, I needed to replace everything, from can opener to love seat. But that's okay.

Now I just want to keep my mind going. You know, with the pictures I coloured from that last book, I sent them up north to a halfway house to use as pictures on the wall. I figured they could be framed, and anything that couldn't be framed, they could cut into cards. I thought the pictures might cheer up those places, or at least give the men something to look at to calm their minds. Maybe inspire some to start colouring, too, because it's so important to give the mind something to do.

Now, I was totally wondering if a halfway house actually appreciates being sent these coloured pages, and the woman continued:

You know, I trained as a commercial artist, but I never worked in that field. I've spent my life just doing God's work. I'd be doing something and God would say, "Draw", and I'd sit down with pencils or paints and just wait to see what God would draw through me. One of my favourites was of a little girl sitting in the grass with her arm around a puppy, and the two of them are watching a turtle go by. I had no idea what that would be until it was finished. I made many pieces over the years, and mostly I would send them to Children's Aid Societies, you know, to hang in the rooms where the parents met with the kids. Cheer them up.

Again, I was trying to imagine if unsolicited art is actually appreciated by government agencies, even if it is very good. I asked her if she is well now; if that's why she was released by the hospice, and she explained that no; she has an enlarged spleen and there are five things that could drop her dead at any second.

But I'm not afraid of that. God has shown me my mansion, my mansion in heaven, and it is beautiful there. Peaceful. Even the trees - ten stories tall, and that's the small ones.

I began coughing at this point, and she looked at me quizzically. "Are you a smoker?" she asked. I said I was not. "Do you know someone who you're expecting to pass anytime soon?" I said I do not and she cocked her head and paused as though pondering, or listening. "Sometimes," she said, "when you start coughing like that, it means that a spirit is passing through you, trying to say goodbye. I don't know why, but I was supposed to tell you that, so I'll just leave that there."

We spoke together for just a few more moments after that - I had plenty of time and interest for the conversation, but it was drawing to its natural close - so I told her that I was so pleased she had decided to come into our store; that I was very pleased to have made her acquaintance. She smiled warmly, as one at peace, and told me to have a glorious life. I thanked her and told her to have one, too. And as I said that, I wondered if it sounded trite coming from me - would it sound like I meant, "What you have left to you"? - but really, none of us know when our days will end, and wishing someone else a "glorious life" is, necessarily, a time-bound offering in every case. 

I was so intrigued by this woman and her connection to her God; intrigued by what she was "supposed to tell" me. Perhaps not exactly fanatical, but I found this woman magical: How could I get enough?